


Everything's Coming Up Flowers

by thismagichour



Category: Critical Role (Web Series), Critical Role: Wildemount Campaign (Web Series)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Hanahaki Disease, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-20 05:37:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13710981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thismagichour/pseuds/thismagichour
Summary: The Hanahaki Disease is an illness born from unrequited love, where the victim coughs up flower petals until the love is requited, or death.Caleb loves Fjord, to the point that it's literally killing him.





	Everything's Coming Up Flowers

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [till the last flower](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13585431) by [vannral](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vannral/pseuds/vannral). 



> This is really only loosely based on the Hanahaki Disease trope, there's a whole other part of it where the person can have the flowers (and all feelings for the person) removed by surgery, but that seems really medical for this particular setting and I tossed it. 
> 
> This fic could also be called: love triangles are broke, letting them all get what they want is woke 
> 
> This is the first time, ever, that I have written a completed fic for a fandom before. I've always dabbled and never actually posted anything, so please be kind to me.

Fjord is there, the first time it happens. He’s grinning at something wry Caleb said, and Caleb’s throat is tight. _It’s fine,_ Caleb tells himself for the dozenth time, _he is just very handsome._ It’s something he’s been noticing more and more recently, and why wouldn’t he? Everyone agreed that Fjord was attractive, and he was also the one least likely to get them all killed, so it’s natural that Caleb gets attached. Fjord squints up at the sun, and Caleb notices how very long his eyelashes are; he drops his gaze, the sun’s brightness dazzling him momentarily.

“If we’re lucky, should be getting there before sunset,” Fjord says, glancing back down at Caleb. Caleb still cannot look at him, and the tightness in his throat does not ease. He looks ahead instead. Jester, Nott, and Beau are all far ahead of the wagon where Fjord and Caleb sit, Jester rushing back and forth to pick flowers as they go. Yasha and Molly are chatting, quietly, just a bit ahead of them, stretching their legs. Caleb’s knee is still healing from a rough fight, and Fjord is sitting very close to him, he notices, their thighs touching solidly, and Caleb cannot breathe.

“You alright? You got pale all of a sudden.” Fjord says, and Caleb clears his throat, and still the tightness remains.

“Fine,” he tries to say, but as soon as he tries to get the words out, he gags. He coughs, and he can feel the pressure inside him rising, and he can’t catch his breath, and he coughs harder, choking on it. Fjord thumps him on the back, once, _hard._ The pressure releases, and flower petals fall into his hand. He closes his fingers over them quickly. Molly has quirked a look back at him, but seeing him fine, turns back to Yasha. Fjord’s hand is warm where it has stayed between his shoulder blades.

“What the hell is that?” Fjord says, quietly.

“Oh, you know, magic, it is unpredictable.” Caleb manages, hoarsely. Fjord nods solemnly. He does know; he had coughed up salt water nightly for weeks. Caleb is very lucky. Caleb is very lucky, because if Molly had seen, or maybe even Jester, they would know what this means. Fjord, for all his power now, knows nothing of magic. Caleb, on the other hand, knows quite a bit about magic, knows this can only be one of two things, and both are bad. Fjord removes his hand, and Caleb can feel the absence like a brand.

“I would like it very much if this were to stay between us.” Caleb says, and this time his voice is almost steady.

“Sure,” Fjord says, looking at Caleb a little too intently. Caleb cannot look at him.

“It is nothing, really, I just, I do not wish to worry anyone, especially Nott.” Caleb says.

“Course,” Fjord says, earnest, “I won’t tell anyone if don’t you want me to.”

“Thank you,” Caleb says simply. “You are a good friend.” He opens his hand again, to look at the petals in his palm. They are small, white. He does not recognize them.

“Huh.” Fjord says, looking at them. Caleb looks at him, and his face is thoughtful. _He really is handsome_ , Caleb thinks again, and then shakes himself out of it.

“That’s, uh, well, that’s… huh.” Fjord says again.

“Are you going to elaborate on that?” Caleb says.

“The flower. It’s sea campion. Least, I think so. They’re all over back home.” A cold trickle of horror goes down Caleb’s spine. _No_ , he thinks, _no, please, it’s too soon, things are just starting to get easier._ He can feel the tightness returning, but this time he thinks it’s not flowers, it’s just sheer panic - pure, dizzying, spiraling panic.

“You got all clammy looking again.” Fjord’s voice cuts through the haze. “You still feeling alright?”

“Yes,” Caleb manages, because, after all, he has always been a very good liar, “yes, everything is fine.” He drops all the petals out the side of the wagon, distinctly does not look at them. 

 

He must tell Nott, he knows, and the opportunity does not take long to present itself. He wakes up a few nights later, feeling like his chest is on fire. He sits up, but that only makes it worse, so he forces his head between his legs. He knows what is happening, this time, but it does not make it any easier. Tears fall down his face as he coughs, knowing that it cannot, probably, kill him this soon, but Caleb has never been lucky, and there’s a first time for everything. Nott, whose bedroll is so close to his that they’re nearly touching, comes to kneel in front of him immediately, her cracked voice panicked, but he cannot understand what she’s saying, because he’s dying, surely, this is how it happens, right here, crying, breathless. 

Finally, _finally_ , the petals come, he spits them onto the ground, keeps spitting, cannot stand the feeling in his mouth. He puts his hands on Nott’s shoulders as he finishes, and he can feel her hands fluttering uselessly all over him, on his cheeks, in his hair, his arms. Once he can breathe again, he looks up at her, and she is staring at him, her yellow eyes wide with fear. Miraculously, no one else has woken up, they had all gotten so used to the sound of Fjord’s nightmares that Caleb has caused no disturbance. He sees Yasha on watch a bit away, but she hasn’t even looked over.

“You know what this is, yes?” Caleb says. Nott nods. Her sharp teeth worry at her bottom lip, and he can see how distressed she is. It’s about the same as he feels.

“Oh, Caleb!” Nott throws her arms around him, crawls into his lap, “I love you, I do! Maybe…maybe not in _that_ way, but I could try! I don’t want you to die!” Despite everything, Caleb laughs a little, buries his face in her hair. It is better than crying again.

“No, no, Nott, it is not you, do not worry. Liebling, it is fine, everything is fine.” He murmurs, tightening his arms.

“Oh, thank gods.” Nott says, not even removing her head from his neck. He laughs again.

“There is still time, yet.” He says.

“Are you gonna tell him?” Nott says, still muffled. He pulls back from her slightly, so he can look at her.

“Who?” He says.

“Fjord. Oh, but, oh! But Caleb, he’s - he’s with Jester.” She says, hushed, “she told me just a few days ago.” Caleb figured, but hearing it does not make it hurt less. It also, he reasons, explains everything. The magic knew, even before he did.

“No, I am not going to tell him.” Caleb says, softly, pulling her head back into the crook of his neck, rocking her slightly. “It is not the right time.”

“But if you don’t, you could die, and I won’t let you,” Nott declares.

“There is still time. It is early yet. I will not die, Nott, I promise you,” Caleb says, because he has always been a very good liar.

 

It is hard to avoid someone when you are traveling with the person in a small group, but Caleb really does his best. He reads, he stays close to Nott, he spends the precious money to get his own room when he can. He moves away from Fjord in a fight, he suggests that they split up so they can both be useful talking their way out of anything, and he goes to bed early. He can feel the seeds rattling in his lungs as he breathes, and he desperately tries to forget.

Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, when Caleb is weak and catches himself glancing in Fjord’s direction, Fjord is too busy looking at Jester to pay him any notice. Fjord smiles more, _not that Caleb notices_ , he seems happier, he holds her hand sometimes as she skips along, too in awe of her to do anything but be pulled along in her wake. Caleb does not blame Fjord in the slightest. As they all grow stronger, her power grows exponentially, and she does not change a bit, still getting them all kicked out of stores and picking wildflowers. Jester is odd, but she is so very beautiful. Caleb breathes, and ignores the rattle.

“You could just say something, you know.” Mollymauk says to him, once.

“I do not know what you mean,” Caleb says, firmly.

“If you say so.” Molly says with a smirk, and does not mention it again.

And as with everything in Caleb’s life, it only gets worse. There is not a second that it does not _ache_. He does not even realize that he’s picked up the habit of rubbing his chest until Nott steadfastly laces her fingers in his in response to Beau’s raised eyebrow. He cannot concentrate on his spells, he botches his incantations as often as not, he cannot even read some days without the words blurring. He knows that the roots have taken place in his lungs, and sometimes at night he dreams he can hear every individual petal growing. Caleb breathes, and it _hurts_. He swallows. He breathes.

 

He has been staring at the same page for a while now. He flips the page for the sake of appearance, but he knows perfectly well that he’s going to have to start all over again later. He can hear Jester talking brightly at the table over, causing a chuckle from Beau and an honest to gods laugh out of Fjord. Caleb looks up instinctively, and immediately winces. His chest blooms, and there is pain. Caleb swallows. He breathes.

“Caleb!” Jester calls, too loudly, considering their proximity. “Come, join us, Fjord wants to see some more magic!”

“Don’t bother the man, Jester, he’s tired,” Fjord says, casting a glance over at Caleb. It is true, Caleb has not been sleeping much, the crushing weight has been hard to sleep through, and sometimes, when he dreams, he wakes up to the ghost touch of calloused green hands and choking up whole flowers.

“Nah, come on, let’s see a trick.” Beau says, “He’s been avoiding us. The least he can do is show us something interesting.”

“They’re not tricks.” Nott says, dignified.

“I have not been avoiding you,” Caleb says.

“You’re a terrible liar,” Molly says.

“You don’t have to, Caleb,” Fjord says, softly, but his eyes are hopeful, and damn him. If Caleb could resist him, he would not be here in the first place. He can feel his lungs spreading open. He ignores it.

“What would you like to see?” 

“Something badass,” Beau says.

“Something funny!” Jester says. Caleb looks at Fjord, but Fjord is looking at Jester, a fond smile playing across his lips. Caleb breathes.

“Alright then, something funny,” he says. “Let me get a few components. Jester, may I have a pastry from your bag?” Delighted, Jester rummages around and gives him a slightly dented donut. He goes up the stairs of the inn to his room, where he has left some of the less important items under his bed. He performs the ritual on the bed, because it is quick, and he comes back down the stairs, donut in hand.

“Fjord, if you would be so kind,” Caleb says, holding the donut out. Fjord looks at it suspiciously.

“What do I do with it?” Fjord says.

“That depends, what do you normally do with a donut?” Caleb says, donut still held out.

“You eat it,” Jester stage whispers to Fjord. Fjord rolls his eyes, but reaches for it, slowly.

“What’s it gonna do to me?” Fjord says, taking the donut but holding it away from his body. Caleb quickly lets it go, but not before Fjord’s fingers have brushed against his. Caleb coughs lightly, and swallows the flowers back. _Not now,_ Caleb tells his traitorous body, _not here._

“Nothing at all,” Caleb says. Fjord squints at him, then looks at the rest of the group, who are all looking at Fjord with rapt attention. 

“It will be fine,” Caleb says, smiling through the sharp pain that is now spreading through him, “Trust me.” Fjord gives a subtle nod, as if to say _fair enough_ , and takes a small bite of the donut, scrunching his eyes shut as he does. Upon his teeth connecting, the donut cries, “Do not eat me!” Fjord swears colorfully and drops the donut entirely, nearly falling out of his chair. The rest of the group erupts with laughter, Jester clapping with the sheer joy of it. Still cursing, Fjord bends down to pick the donut off the floor, and inspects it closely. There’s nothing to see. It looks perfectly ordinary.

“What a wonderful trick, Caleb!” Jester says, “will it do it again?”

“I would say you can find out, but our friend seems to have dropped it on the ground,” Caleb replies, smiling hesitantly at Fjord. Fjord looks at him and nods ruefully, as if to say _you’ll pay for that_. Caleb thinks, _I am already paying for it,_ and smiles wider.

“I don’t mind!” Jester says, and plucks the donut from Fjord’s hand, taking a bite. Again, the donut cries, “do not eat me!” Jester smiles widely.

“It has your voice,” Fjord says, “it’s real off putting.”

“Yes, well, I did not give it life, just a phrase. It will repeat when the trigger happens. In this case, being bitten.” Caleb says, trying not to look directly at anyone in particular. He has never taken direct scrutiny, positive or negative, of his magic well, he never knows what to do with his hands. He looks to Nott, who is smiling, watching Jester take bite after bite, delighting in every time it cries out.

“It is very good, Caleb!” Jester says, her mouth full.

“It is. It’s very impressive,” Fjord says, sincerely.

“Thank you,” Caleb says, and thinks of nothing at all. “Now, if you all will excuse me, I am really very tired, and must rest now. Goodnight.” He forces himself to take the stairs slowly, confidently, until he reaches his room, shuts the door, and hacks petals everywhere.

 

“You’ve got to tell him, Caleb,” Nott says, one night, pulled in close to him, for warmth. She knows how often he coughs, because there is no hiding from her in the cold nights on the road.

“There is no point,” he says, his eyes still closed, “because when he rejects me it will just kill me faster.”

“If, not when.” Nott says. “If he rejects you.”

“When, Nott.” Caleb says, softly, and he coughs again. Her little arms tighten around him.

“I can’t lose you,” she says, desperately, and Caleb feels the wetness of her tears beginning to soak through his shirt. “I can’t, and I won’t, Caleb. Who will teach me magic? Who will protect me when the itch gets bad?”

“Our friends, Schätzchen. Jester and Molly and Yasha and Beau.”

“And Fjord,” she says.

“Yes,” Caleb says, “and Fjord.”

“I hate him, Caleb,” Nott says, fiercely. Caleb looks up at the night sky, and ignores the tears running down his face, as he has been ignoring so many things these days.

“It’s not his fault,” Caleb says, “I have always been unlucky.”

“I’m gonna save you. Somehow, I will, I swear.” Nott says.

“I have never doubted you,” Caleb says, which is true. Nott has always been the best of them, and will continue to be long after he is gone. He just wishes that he could have saved her a little of this pain, is all. He wishes he could live for her.

 

“Hey, uh,” Fjord says to him, “do you mind if I walk with you for a bit?” 

“No, no, of course I do not mind,” Caleb says, his eyes on his feet. He catches his hand as it absentmindedly travels to his chest. He looks for Nott, who is encouraging Jester to do something or another, and determinedly not looking at him. She has always been an awful liar. She’s said something, either to Jester or to Fjord, but Caleb cannot be sure what exactly she has told them.

“I was just wondering if your little problem is still-” Fjord trails off. Caleb grimaces.

“It is nothing,” he says, forcing a small smile, but unable to raise his eyes from the ground. He becomes aware of his hand again, rubbing, as if he put enough pressure there, the flowers would slow.

“Well, no disrespect, Caleb, but we all know that ain’t true.” Fjord says, as if trying not to spook him, as if he were a cat. “You’re sleeping an awful lot lately, even for you, and you’ve been avoiding us. And I thought maybe that was because you thought I might tell somebody. I wanted you to know that I haven’t, and I don’t mean to.” Fjord is looking so earnestly at him, the breath catches in Caleb’s throat. He swallows thickly, once, twice.

“I believe you.” Caleb manages. “I am sorry, Fjord. Nott and I have been on our own for a very long time and I am not used to being around so many people, that is all.”

“You’re sure?” Fjord says, skeptically. 

“Of course I am sure,” Caleb says.

“I’m here if you need anything, Caleb, I just want you to know. I wanna help,” Fjord says seriously, stopping momentarily, clasping Caleb’s arm with both of his hands. The warmth coming off him is nearly unbearable. He’s very close, he’s closer than he’s ever been, and if Caleb closes his eyes, he could almost believe -

“And I can ask Jester, if you think she can help. She really is handy with the healing,” Fjord continues. Caleb feels the air goes abruptly out of him, as suddenly as if he were punched in the chest. He feels the hollowness in his ribs, which is laughable, when his chest is full of all sorts of things that should not be there.

“I am fine, Fjord,” Caleb says, finally looking up into Fjord’s eyes, a lemon-bitter smile twisting on his face, “you do not need to worry about me.”

 

He studies up on as many nonverbal spells as he can get his hands on. He keeps his mouth shut. He keeps Nott close. He breathes as shallowly as he can manage, and he’s lightheaded more often than not. He thinks about dying, about going out gloriously before this damn disease can finish him, but he knows it will not happen. The end is so close now. He will linger until the flowers puncture his lungs and he dies gasping. Caleb, while many things, has never been brave.

 

It finally goes to hell when they get attacked on the road. They are so far north now, too far north, and everything is so cold. Caleb coughs as often as breathing, but he is not the only one. The air penetrates right down to the bone. All of them are miserable, and they talk little. Even Jester and Molly have fallen quiet in this land. Caleb takes the risk to cast fire shield as often as he as able, and he has gotten pretty good at managing without the verbal part now. He carries Nott when he does this, so that they both might have a temporary peace from suffering. He wishes he could do more for the others, especially Fjord and Beau, who are the least protected from this kind of weather, but he is lucky to manage what he has, and he must worry about Nott, for now.

When the mephits attack, they are caught totally unaware. There are two of Jester, suddenly. He can hear Fjord shouting, he sees the blood running off Molly’s swords as he cuts his neck. Caleb wonders, absently, and not for the first time, if maybe he should ask Molly about this disease; Molly’s expertise seems to be in horrible forms of magic. He casts fire shield without a thought, and as he does his mind wanders to Nott. As he realizes he cannot see her, he hears a familiar cry of pain. He realizes with swooping horror that he has botched the spell, Nott’s burned, possibly very badly, and he gasps, only to realize too late that it was a mistake, he is overcome with coughing, he drops, he cannot breathe, he cannot think, he has hurt Nott, he may have killed her, he tries to breathe, flowers are cascading from his mouth, he tries to breathe, he is certainly going to die here, all of them may die here, he tries to breathe, and there is nothing.

 

He dreams, which is something unexpected about death. He is buried like a seed under the earth, the weight upon him terrible. This is unfortunate. He thought that death would be less painful than life. He is disappointed to be wrong.

“ _Nott,” Jester says, holding Nott’s hand as they walk. It is a beautiful day, everyone is walking and enjoying the sunshine. It’s one of the last good days Caleb has, though he does not know it yet. Jester is not very tall, but Nott’s hand still has to reach upwards to keep hold._

_“Yes?” Nott says, and Caleb is so happy to have this last moment of her._

_“What is the best thing you have ever stolen?” Jester asks._

_“Oh, well,” Nott hesitates, “I’ve stolen many things, and all of them are pretty good.”_

_“But what is your most favorite thing that you have stolen?” Jester says._

_“I once stole a very big diamond, that was the most expensive thing.” Nott says._

_“But what was your most favorite?” Jester presses._

_“Well,” Nott says shyly, and looks over her shoulder, to see Caleb looking at her, and she lowers her voice, “Caleb is my very favorite thing.”_  

 

_“Caleb,” Fjord says, “Caleb.”_

_“Yes, Fjord, what is it?” Caleb says. He can hear fire roaring. The town is burning._

_“You stay alive now, you hear me?” Fjord says. “We’re gonna need all our most powerful magic to help when this is all over, so you stay safe.”_

_“Do not worry, Fjord, you will always find me safely out of danger,” Caleb says, and he does not mean to sound as bitter as he does._

_“Hey,” Fjord says sharply, and puts his finger under Caleb’s chin, forcing Caleb’s eyes up to him, “stay safe for me. Not for anything else. Stay safe for me. Can you do that?”_

_“Yes,” Caleb says dumbly, “yes, I can do that.”_

_“Good.” Fjord says, and his hand grips Caleb’s chin, too hard. “So wake up now, Caleb. I’m not letting you die on me.” This part is wrong, this did not happen. Caleb grasps Fjord’s arm, trying to pull his hand away, but Fjord grasps tighter. Fjord’s hand is tight around his throat._

_“Fjord,” Caleb gasps, “Fjord, I cannot breathe.”_

_“Yes, exactly,” Fjord says, and it does not sound like Fjord, there’s something speaking from behind his face, some presence much greater than either of them, and Caleb is terrified of it, “and he needs you, so that is why_ _you will wake up now_ _.”_

 

And he wakes up. He knows that he is still alive because it hurts, and for a moment, he sort of wishes he was not. But no, he must know if Nott is alive, if Fjord is okay, if all of his friends are still alright. So he pries his eyes open, and he forces himself to sit up. Nott is there, holding his hand tightly, her yellow eyes wide with worry. Next to her is Jester, whose lips are pressed together in annoyance. Caleb has never seen this particular expression in her face, and he looks at Nott with concern.

“I’m sorry, Caleb, but I couldn’t let you die,” Nott says, her little face made up in determination, and Caleb feels his stomach drop out. He looks down at his knees, to the small bed he is in, the room sparse, but comfortable. They must have brought him to an inn. He is not sure how he got here, he is not even sure where exactly here is, but Nott doesn’t look terribly hurt, so they must have done okay without him. Why wouldn’t they? He has always been the liability of the party, and he has not even been able to cast spells properly for a while, so he has been fully useless of late. At least he knows that Nott will manage when he is gone. The only person that has ever been any danger to her is him.

“I hear you’re being very stupid.” Jester says bluntly, pulling him out of his spiral.

“I do not know what Nott has told you-” Caleb starts, but Jester cuts him off again.

“She did not need to tell me _much_ , since _everyone_ knows what coughing up flowers means, Caleb.” Jester says, taking a tone that conveys exactly how stupid she thinks he is. “And I do not know why you haven’t told him!” Caleb blinks.

“I am sorry, I do not understand.” He says. What has Nott told her? Maybe she has covered for him somehow.

“Fjord! He likes you! Why do you not just _say something_ to him?” Jester says. There’s a silence. Caleb’s brain is whirring, but he is still short on oxygen and clearly is not following what is happening correctly.

“Fjord,” Caleb repeats, dumbly.

“Yes, Fjord!” Jester says.

“He is with you.” Caleb says.

“Yes.” Jester says.

“But you said he likes me,” Caleb says.

“Yes.” Jester repeats.

“I do not understand,” Caleb says, and he doesn’t. He has no idea what is happening here.

“Ugh, humans are so weird!” Jester exclaims. “Do you think you can only have one person? Why? That makes no sense! Nott, tell him that makes no sense,” she says, turning to her. Nott looks at Jester, at Caleb, and then back to Jester, wringing her hands slightly.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Nott says, kindly, “some people are just like that.”

“Well, I am not like that! And neither is Fjord. That is a human thing! So what is the problem?” Jester says, loudly, throwing her hands up in clear dissatisfaction.

“Jester, I think I understand what you saying here,” Caleb says, gently, “but I do not think of you that way.”

“Ew, no, you are very stinky. Gross.” Jester says.

“I am confused,” Caleb says.

“Because humans are so stupid!” Jester says, frustrated. “You like Fjord, he likes you. I like Fjord, he likes me. You and me, we do not like each other. Where are you confused?”

“Oh,” Caleb says, “oh.”

“Yes, oh, you big stupid!” Jester cries. “You were just gonna die and not even ask!”

“I did not want to hurt Fjord. I did not want to hurt either of you,” Caleb gets out. Jester softens a little bit, and pats him on the head.

“That is very sweet, Caleb,” Jester says, still patting him, “but also the dumbest thing I have ever heard. I am going to get Fjord now, and you are going to tell him, and then you are gonna not die, and everything will be good!” And with that, she stands up, and she all but flounces out of the room, leaving him alone with Nott, who is decidedly not making eye contact.

“Nott-”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Caleb!” Nott says, and throws herself into his arms. “I really thought you were gonna die! You were coughing so much, and there were so many mephits, and I had to protect you, and you weren’t breathing, and I had to give you mouth to mouth, and Fjord carried you all the way here, and I couldn’t hide all the flowers because they were _everywhere_ , covered in _blood_ , Caleb, I don’t know how you had all those flowers in you, and Molly called it Hanahaki, and everyone knew what that was but Fjord and they had to explain it him, and then I couldn’t keep my mouth shut! I thought you were dead! I wanted him to kiss you and save you but he wouldn’t because he didn’t know what was happening, so I told everyone, but I had to! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

“It’s alright, shh, it is fine, everything is fine,” Caleb says, though admittedly he is deeply mortified, and also in a lot of pain, “I understand why you did what you did, Nott, you do not need to apologize.”

“I promised I would save you,” Nott says into his chest.

“And I have never doubted you,” Caleb repeats. They stay a moment, like that, and he buries his face into her hair. He hears the door to his small room open, and over Nott’s head in the doorway, there is Fjord. Fjord looks weary, and bloody, and fierce. Caleb has a brief moment where he regrets that he does not remember being carried. If something so embarrassing should happen, he should at least get some enjoyment from it. Caleb finds himself breathless in the face of him, but he has been breathless for several months now, anyway.

“Hey,” Fjord says.

“Hello,” Caleb says.

“I’ll just go then, shall I?” Nott says, subtle as always, and comically tiptoes from the room, closing the door behind her. Caleb feels such a fond rush of warmth for her as she goes that he smiles, a real smile for the first time in as long as he can remember. He loves her dearly, and he feels so grateful for a moment that all the breath goes out of him in a rush. He does not lose this smile as he looks to Fjord, and Fjord returns it, shyly.

“So, I hear you were killing yourself over me,” Fjord says, walking over to the chair that Nott had vacated.

“Well, I admit it does sound very dramatic when you put it that way.” Caleb says.

“I’m sorry for all the trouble,” Fjord says, quietly, and takes Caleb’s hand in his.

“You are sorry?” Caleb says, and laughs as best he can, “I am here, nearly dying, because I am in love with you and do not want to be an inconvenience, and you are apologizing to me.”

“Yes,” Fjord says, simply, and brings Caleb’s knuckles to his lips. Caleb feels it like a spark of electricity down his spine. Fjord, very slowly, leans forward into Caleb’s space. Caleb is sitting up against a headboard, and cannot very well move away, and Fjord boxes him in with his arms. Caleb’s whole body screams at him, _yes, please, finally, please,_ but Caleb forces himself to move his head away slightly. 

“Fjord, you must know, that if you do this, it will get very messy,” Caleb says, averting his eyes.

“You mean with the flowers, or with you in general?” Fjord says, amused, and sweet as syrup.

“Both, always both.” Caleb says, looking Fjord square in the face. Fjord thinks for a second, his face scrunched, and Caleb is lost in the very closeness of him, in the tension of this moment, where they balance on the edge of a knife.

“Reckon I’ll risk it,” Fjord says, and kisses him solidly.

 

Caleb, of course, is right, and it is messy. Immediately after they kiss he has to cough up what seems like a million sea campions, which does something to ruin the mood. A few weeks later Fjord is forced to carry him through a large river while Caleb scratches at him like an overlarge cat, much to Caleb’s mortification. He finds out that sometimes Jester will just interrupt whatever, and he means _whatever_ , Fjord and Caleb are doing if she gets bored. He finds out that Fjord is terrified of his Patron, but Fjord would sacrifice nearly anything for the power anyway, and that the slow accent that Caleb and Jester love so much is not even real. It is a mess, but it does not matter. None of that matters. What matters is Molly’s low _to be fair, I did tell you so_ , as soon as Caleb is recovered enough to show his face again. What matters is that when Jester grabs Fjord by the hand and pulls him along, Fjord will look back at Caleb and mouth _help me_ and Caleb will laugh and wave. What matters is that sometimes Caleb’s past will haunt him and Jester will push Fjord into his lap and say _he is being a sad wizard, Fjord, make him a happy wizard_. What matters is Beau’s smug smirk at him when he is caught up in Fjord and Jester’s wake. What matters is that he has more time with Nott, to teach her magic, to make her smile, to keep her close. What matters is that he stays far from the ocean, and never has to see a stupid sea campion as long as he lives. Caleb smiles. And breathes. He breathes.

**Author's Note:**

> The only other language I know is Spanish, and I literally agonized over the two nicknames Caleb uses for Nott. If any German wants to tell me if I'm misusing either of them, I'd really appreciate it.
> 
> The spell Caleb casts on the donut is based on the actual 5e wizard spell Magic Mouth. Fire Shield is also a real spell, but it can't damage an ally the way it does here. Also those are higher level spells that Caleb doesn't (and probably will never) actually have, but that's creative license for you.
> 
> The title of this fic is something I couldn't figure out until Fjord literally said this in the last episode (episode 6). It's (I assume this is what he was referencing, at least,) a play on Everything's Coming Up Roses, which is one of the most famous songs of the musical Gypsy. Everything's Coming Up Roses is a song that's both bitter and triumphant, and thank god Travis reminded me of it, because it is kind of brilliant in this context. I know it's kind of pedantic, but I thought it was interesting.
> 
> I'd also like to give credit where credit is due to vannral, whose fic made me aware that Hanahaki Disease is the honest to god "literally dying of pining" trope I didn't know I needed.


End file.
